Perfect Porcelain
by m.hae
Summary: Calliope has a troubled past. She meets Arizona and settles down with her. Now caught in a bind, she relives the nightmare that claimed the life of her mother and father 20 years ago. Will she survive?
1. Prologue

**AN: Hey guys! This is a new story I've been working on. It's more horror themed and I had lots of fun starting it.**

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 **Hae**

Prologue

"And the mouse went to sleep, quiet and sound," my mother said softly as she closed the small story book. It was the same one she had read to me a few nights ago - I wanted to remind her - but I was too captivated by her voice to do so.

She pulled the covers tightly around me, making sure I was tucked in. I could smell her shampoo, a sweet lavender scent, faded from the day. My mother had a tired face. Even so, her eyes twinkled as though they were trying to keep them from smiling. Her lips were a paler colour. She had lost some weight lately, attributing it to her lack of sleep. She was beautiful though. The most beautiful woman to this eight year old and I wanted to remember her. I'm not too sure why, but that night, I did not want her to leave.

"Mommy," I said quietly, "Can you sleep here tonight?"

I closed my eyes as she planted a soft kiss on my forehead. Her soft hair tickled my cheeks as they hung from her face. I looked at her with my pleading eyes. I was scared. For absolutely no reason at all. I was scared.

I was eight, I knew fully that there was no monster in the closet or under my bed. I knew that the Tooth Fairy was my mother and that the real monsters are people who lurked in the streets looking to kidnap children. I didn't want to tell my mother, but I also knew that Santa was really my father dressed up. And of course, I knew that the things that go bump at night are nothing more than my imagination gone rampant.

So why was I so scared?

"Honey, I have to go back to my room," my mother answered softly, "You're a big girl now."

I frowned, hoping that my sadness would prompt her to make an exception to this whole big girl ordeal. Poking my arm out from under my covers, I nudged her gently. She patted my hand and placed it back under the covers.

"Come on now, I love you," she said as she tried to comfort me.

I answered her, "To the moon and back."

She poked my nose softly with her slender index finger.

"To the moon and back," she agreed.

I giggled and made a boop sound when I gently tapped her nose with my index finger in return. A pale porcelain doll sitting in my mother's rocking chair caught my attention. It looked beautiful, almost eerie. I had never seen this doll before. It garbed a beautiful white dress with blue laces, much like the one that father had bought me last week. Her long plastic curly blonde hair framed her face. Her crystal blue eyes stared blankly in the dark.

"Mommy," I said as I struggled out of my covers again, "Why is that doll in here?"

"Calliope," my mother said over her shoulder, her voice suddenly sounded colder. Her face was hidden by the shadows.

This wasn't my mother.

"She's here to make sure you stay in bed dear. No matter what. Be a good girl and stay in bed."

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up hearing blood curdling screams from my parents' bedroom. I got out of bed and crept to the door and peered out into the darkness. I looked towards my parents' room for the comfort of my mother when suddenly I felt wet hands grab my shoulders from behind. I was spun around and came face to face with a deranged woman taking form of my mother.

"I...told...you…" she panted those words, "To stay in bed!"

I shrugged her off violently and dashed back into the room, scared of my own mother. There was blood on her hands, likely my father's. Breaking the one rule that my parents had in the house, I locked the bedroom door and hid under my bed. I didn't dare to move until the air filled with flashing lights and sirens. I held my breath as my door was kicked down by an officer clad in black. He tried to coax me out from under the bed, but I was reluctant.

The doll was no longer looking into space. It stared directly at me as I got out from under the bed. I must have ran into it when I dashed in. The officer picked me up in his arms and carried me out to the front because my legs were unwilling to walk.

"This news team is here reporting the recent murder that rocked our small town in Newport. A wife, a mother, called the police to surrender herself after brutally slaying her husband of 10 years. This seemingly loving family torn apart by this act of atrocity. But things may not have been so picture perfect for this family. It seems that the husband was an alcoholic who frequently beat his wife. Ligature marks and bruising on the wife's body seem to support these accusations...," the news anchor paused as she caught sight of me wrapped up in an emergency blanket provided by the paramedics and the police. The woman uncomfortably gestured for the cameraman to stop filming as she turned and took a small step towards me. She got down on one knee to meet my eyes. She offered her hand to me.

"I'm Meredith," she said quietly over the roar of sirens. The flashing lights painted her and my skin blue and red.

"I'm sorry honey," Meredith continued, "That this happened to you."

The older woman rubbed my shoulder before standing back up and gesturing an officer to come by. I could see the faint wrinkles in the corner of her eyes starting to form. They reminded me of my mother. I stared at her as the officer ushered me away into a police car. She stared back as the car slowly pulled away.

That was 20 years ago...


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Early update for this story, if you want earlier updates like these and more exclusive content then pledge to my ! You can find me at 's website (just replace 'home' with 'mhae' in the addressbar)**

 **Best,**

 **Hae**

Half asleep, I felt my covers being tugged. I wrestled for the covers, gripping the corners of it tightly. Giggles and laughter filled the room as I forced one eye open to see my attackers. Light poured into my eyes and I squinted, barely processing what was happening.

I opened my eyes fully as two tiny bodies jumped on top of mine. The two little gremlins of mine burrowed themselves under my covers and started to tickle me. Their little fingers dug into my sides and I struggled to break free from this torture. Gasping for air I laughed from being tickled.

Raising the covers I peaked under to look at my two children. They stopped tickling momentarily, enough for me to catch my breath. Cristina, my eldest child was adopted six years ago at the age of two after a series of miscarriages. We accepted the fate that we may not be able to conceive a child and instead opened our hearts this this sassy princess. Her wild, untamed, dark hair clung to the covers from the static. The younger boy under the covers with her flashed me a toothy smile. Alex, a surprise for us when we found out that one of the embryos had actually taken in Arizona's womb during Cristina's adoption process. I reached over and tickled them in return. They giggled as I tickled them. Alex almost fell off the bed and I had to catch him. We all looked up confusedly as the cover was taken away.

My wife stood looming over us. Her lips pursed disapprovingly and she placed her free hand on her hip. She laughed and picked up Alex playfully and tickled her. My beautiful wife winked at me, her blue eyes warming my heart. Taking her cue, I lightly grabbed Cristina and tickled her until she was pink and out of breath.

"Mama stop, please!" Cristina said as she breathlessly laughed.

I stopped tickling her and placed her on the ground. Arizona did the same with Alex and we scooted the two children out to the kitchen. We could hear them tickling each other as they ran out of our room.

Arizona got into bed beside me.

"Honey," she said as she planted kisses on my neck. She smelled like lavender and I felt a wave of panic wash through me. I held her at arm's bay.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

I shook my head and answered, "Did you get a new shampoo?"

She playfully rubbed her wavy blonde hair in my face further and memories of that night kept flashing back.

"Do you like it? It was on sale!"

I tried to ignore the scent and cuddled my wife. Her blonde hair covering my face and her body felt warm as she pressed against me. The glow of the sun that was shining onto my covers and my wife made it such a calm satisfying morning. I could hear my kids arguing down the hall. I tried to resist the temptation of comfort as I laid here with the love of my life.

"I want the toy from the cereal!" Cristina's voice called out.

There was some rustling from the kitchen and I heard a smack against the table.

"No, I want the toy!" Alex yelled as he likely grabbed the toy from Cristina.

I opened one eye as Arizona got off me.

"Sorry babe," she said with a chuckle, "It's time for reality."

And just like that, the serene bliss which I had just gotten used to was torn away by two little kids fighting over a cereal toy. A cheap plastic figurine that was likely made in China for all I knew My wife's laughter filled the room and she rolled off me onto the other half of the bed. She got off the bed and straightened out her white shirt that she was wearing over her jeans.

She walked over and planted a chaste kiss on my lips as she made her way out to the kitchen. I swung my legs over and followed her. Our kids were still bickering over the toy as I sat down between them. They tugged at the toy as they yelled at each other. I could see tears brewing in Alex's eyes as Cristina held her ground.

I placed an open palm on the table as Arizona poured me some coffee into my mug. The kids reluctantly made eye contact with me and handed me the toy. I palmed the toy, feeling its weight in my hand and felt its rough edges along my fingertips. It was a toy car. Like those cheap Hotrods that I used to play with in the foster home. I placed it down onto the table and pushed it with my index finger. It shot forward and stopped short of the stack of letters guarding the plate of pancakes that Arizona had put out. I reached over and grabbed the pile. As I flipped through the pile, I occasionally looked up to make sure that no one touched the toy car. Arizona stared at the kids sternly, warning them not to argue anymore over a silly toy.

Bills. Bills. Bills. More bills. As an accountant I didn't make too much. I made enough to get by, to put a roof over our heads and food on the table..that is...provided that there were no surprises. I left the utility bill, phone bill, and credit card bills unopened because two letters caught my eye. One from the penitentiary where my mother was serving her sentence, the other from Cristina's school. I took a deep breath in and decided that I would take the good news first.

I picked up my butter knife and savagely tore into the letter. The letter was an off-white colour, with a fancy letterhead and a signature that looked like it came from a fountain pen. Arizona poured milk into the bowls for Alex and Cristina, My eyes skimmed the letter as Arizona forked some pancakes onto my plate. I took a sip of my black coffee, my nose scrunched up at its strength and acidity.

I placed the letter down and walked over to Cristina and picked her up and placed her on top of my shoulders.

Arizona and Alex both looked up at us from the kitchen table confused.

"Our little girl won the State science fair!" I said prancing around with her, "And to think she's only eight!"

Arizona got up and hugged us both and planted kisses on both our cheeks, mostly Cristina's. Alex smiled as he looked at us and surreptitiously grabbed the toy from the middle of the table, thinking that we wouldn't notice. I was overjoyed by my little girl's accomplishments that I just let him have it and run off to play with our dogs Mocha and Bean.

"Don't let Bean chew on the toy Alex, and come finish your breakfast before you play," I said sternly as I placed Cristina down.

Cristina was so elated and proud that she completely forgot about the silly toy. I ruffled her hair as I continued onto the second page of the letter. My excitement quickly died as I realized that the letter was asking if we would send Cristina off to a prestigious science camp over the summer hosted by NASA. The camp fee and travel would cost approximately $1000. $1000 that I would have to find from somewhere. I tried to hide my disappointment as Cristina looked at me earnestly, Alex made his way back to the table, this time with his two trusty companions.

I smiled and patted Mocha. Alex had spilled some syrup earlier and now Bean was too busy licking Alex's syrupy hands clean.

Arizona looked at me concerned about our finances and about letting our little girl down.

"Are you excited to go?" I asked Cristina.

"More than ever!" She chirped.

I smiled again and placed her on my lap. I lightly tapped her on her nose.

"I'm so proud of you Cristina," I started, "I love you and you will definitely go..."

"To the moon and back right?" My little girl chimed in right away.

Arizona laughed, and said, "Well I don't know about going to the moon, but we definitely love you to the moon and back."

I placed Cristina back down in her seat and she began to gobble down her soggy cereal.

Now for the bad news. I braced myself for whatever it was that was in this faded, stained, bureaucratic envelope. I saw more coffee being poured into my cup and I looked up to see Arizona holding the pitcher of coffee as she rubbed my shoulder. I nuzzled into her comfort and tore open the letter gingerly.

I had not heard from my mother in 15 years. For the first 5 years of her incarceration, she would write to me. The letters became shorter as I grew older and one day they just stopped coming. I stopped writing to her because she stopped writing me back. I declined all visitations offered by my social worker who kept me off the streets and in a good home.

I took at deep breath and unfolded the letter. It was a declaration of death, in short, a death certificate. The letter and form detailed the condition they had found my mother. It seemed that she had hung herself just two nights ago. As I was over the legal age, this letter was to notify that the body would be either be cremated or returned to me for funeral services. Either way, there would be fees associated, but I couldn't just let them cremate my mother.

She would have wanted to be buried beside my father.

I decided that I would just rent a UHaul and bring her corpse to where I spent the first eight years of my life. There wasn't anything on their agreements about transporting dead bodies. I was sure to get my security deposit back.

I furrowed my brow further, I needed some way to get the money for both Cristina's science camp and for my mother's funeral.

What was I to do?


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Weekly update number 2! Hope you are all well. I'll be starting to work on some exciting things this month, come check it out at my ! I'm going to use that to start documenting my summer projects and adventures. I didn't get a chance for this to get beta'd by anyone, bathduck (my partner in crime) has been a bit busy with school.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Hae**

Chapter 2

Prior to leaving for work that day, I discussed the possibility of me renting a UHaul and driving down to Newport right after work. It would take approximately five hours, I would get there around 10 PM. I could probably rent a hotel and swing by the prison in the morning. Knowing my history with my mother, Arizona was reluctant to let me go on my own, but she had no choice with the two kids running around.

"Bye honey," Arizona reluctantly said to me as I grabbed my brown leather shoulder bag and my beige trench coat.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. I love you," I answered in a rush.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go, we can get my father to watch the kids..." she protested.

"No, I'll be alright." This had to be something that I did on my own. I had to face my mother alone.

She planted a quick kiss on my cheek as I locked the door behind me. I felt the sun's ray on my face, it was early in the morning, just a little past 8 AM, the air still smelled wet from the night before. The air was cool, but humid, hinting the end of spring and the coming of summer heat. I fumbled for my keys to my Hyundai. A recent purchase, it was almost a steal when I bought it. Financing it for less than 80 bucks a month made it possible to own a second car since my wife needed the first one to drive our kids to school. I gripped the sleek black handle and smiled faintly to myself. This was my car. I looked over to the house. This was my home. I looked through the kitchen window to see my kids talking with Arizona. This was my family.

I felt like I almost had it all.

I pulled out of my driveway and onto the road. My neighbour, dressed in pale teal bathroom, was out at his mailbox to grab the newspaper. She brushed her bangs out of her face and waved with a smile. The older woman looked tired, as though she had pulled an all-nighter last night. I rolled down my window as I drove by her. The sudden intrusion of cool air made my body involuntarily shiver as I stuck an arm out to wave to my neighbour.

"Hey Callie!" Teddy shouted to me as I rolled by before heading back to her home.

I smiled to myself as I closed the window and turned on the radio. After flipping through the many pre-settings, I finally decided upon a light rock station. The bass from the music filled my speakers. Once the song ended, the host's voice came on the air.

"Good morning Seattle!" His voice rang out as he started on the news and events that highlighted the entertainment industry this past week. In a strange way, the talk show host felt like an old friend of mine. His voice gave me a sense of familiarity and though I had never personally met him, I felt as though I knew him.

The parking lot was almost full by the time I had arrived for work. There was one spot left open and as I eyed it another car tried to take it. I quickly parked myself in it before she even had a chance. The plump woman in the tiny navy Volkswagen jokingly made an obscene gesture to me, one that involved one of her fingers and I laughed. She would have to park in our satellite parking lot down the road. I got out of my car and locked up as I walked away.

"Sorry Brenda, I'll see you inside!" I called out over my shoulder.

I looked down to my watch. _8:45 AM_ it read. I still had 15 minutes before I was technically required to be at my desk, and with the elevator out of service, I figured I'd take the stairs up to the 7th floor where I worked. Arizona had made me promise her I'd try to get into shape. That was two, no, three birds with one stone?

The first few floors went by like a breeze. By the fourth and fifth floors, I had to undo the button to my blazer. Thank God I left my jacket in the car. My heart was racing and I felt warm as the blood made its way around my circulatory system to bring me some of that sweet oxygen. I bent down to catch my breath. A heavy metallic click from the bottom stairway door prompted me to look over the banister. A furious woman huffed as she made her way up the first flight of stairs. She looked up and our eyes met.

"Shit," I thought to myself. I smiled a cheeky grin at her and I dashed up the remaining stairs.

"Callie, you little piece of…" Brenda's voice trailed off as I teasingly ran off without her. I walked past her desk and sat down in the cubicle beside hers, but before doing so I dropped off a bottle of water that I had grabbed from the break room onto her desk. I quickly scrawled a note on a sticky pad.

" _Sorry Momma Bear_ ," the note read, " _Better luck next time_!"

I was busy punching in numbers when there was a knock on the entrance of my cubicle. I spun around to find Derek standing there. His salt pepper wavy hair looked uncombed and his tie was loosened. His matching dark grey blazer was opened and he looked out of breath as well.

"Stairs?" I said, gesturing to the elevator.

He shook his head as he tried to recompose himself.

"I...need you...to draft a few ...phew, wait," he started before grabbing my beverage that I had taken from the break room and began drinking it.

I looked at him as though asking him if he was serious.

"Heyo man, that was mine!" I said with a laugh, as he handed me back an empty Coke bottle.

He handed me a stack of paper afterwards.

"Thanks," he said cheekily, his eyes twinkled in accordance, "Draft a few bonus cheques for some of the staff. Here's the list of names and values. Truth be told, the values are so small that I doubt anyone is going to look at them afterwards."

I nodded as I took the pile of papers from him.

He started to walk away, but before he did, he jokingly said, "Thanks Callie, you can go ahead and cut yourself a huge bonus now."

The pale yellow stack of blank cheques stared at me. As the accountant, I had control of most of the internal finances. A sinister thought crept onto my mind, tainting it. Derek was right. I could cut myself a big cheque and no one would even notice. With that in mind I quickly scanned the list for my name.

 _Calliope Torres - 649.79 memo: bonus_

I had always been an honest person. I had always followed the rules, because children in foster homes who didn't follow rules are unwanted. And all my life, I desperately needed to be wanted. Life felt so alone when it seemed like there was no one who wanted you. The feeling amplified by passing through foster home to foster home. With Arizona and the kids, I felt wanted. And that feeling was powerful.

My blue fountain pen flowed into the paper as I penned down my name. _Calliope Torres ...649.79_. I paused for a moment and looked around. "Cut yourself a huge bonus now," Derek's voice echoed in my head. I looked around again, making sure that no one was around my desk. I neatly added the number 9 in front of the figures, increasing my bonus by nearly ten-fold. Once more I looked around surreptitiously as I slipped the cheque into my pocket and continued with the rest of the list.

The day quickly passed and I remembered that I needed to ask Toby from HR about whether or not I could take tomorrow off to go to pick up my deceased mother. I packed up my things from my desk and made my way over to his office.

The grooves of his name plate felt sharp against my finger. I flicked the Bobble-head toy on his desk, prompting his attention. The short, balding man swiveled around on his big comfortable chair. He had these droopy eyes, the ones that kind of make you dislike him even though he was actually the biggest sweet heart. His teeth, no his whole face, reminded me of a sad rabbit.

"Hi Callie, what can I do for you?" He asked me as he gave me his undivided attention.

I flicked the toy once more.

"I know it's a bit short notice," I started, "But I just got a letter that my mother just passed away and I need to take care of some things for her."

He placed one of his big warm hands over mine. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I shrugged it away. The poor man looked awkward and apologetic afterwards.

"Sorry," he muttered, "For your loss."

I noticed the uneasiness I had bestowed upon him. I felt bad now. Today was just a day of me feeling guilt and feeling bad. The cheque poked at me through the pocket and I felt my palms get sweaty. He turned over to his computer and opened up his email. After a moment of silence, he turned back over to me.

"It seems like Erica is away for a few days, if you needed some time off there would be no better time than right now."

Elated by the news, I surreptitiously wiped my hand dry on my dress pants before extending it to him and shaking his hand as I grabbed my things to leave.

"Thank you Toby," I gratefully told him, "You don't know what this means to me."

It felt like a long drive to the small private yard that rented UHauls near the highway. Reality was that the drive could not have been much more than 15 minutes. There was exactly 3 songs with no interruption. It felt like an hour. I looked into the dusty yard and found the discoloured UHaul sign. I turned my car in and drove towards a man who was hitching up a trailer to a truck. The dust made me cough a little and I grabbed my puffer from the glove compartment. Shaking it I sprayed it into my mouth and quickly returned it back to its place before speaking to the man.

"How much for a small truck? I just need it for tonight and tomorrow," I asked through my car window.

The bearded man turned to look at me, his face already tan from the infant summer. He scratched his beard and shifted his faded trucker cap. His denim vest was torn and his red plaid shirt peeked through. His hands looked calloused and worn from days of hard work. He looked like an honest man, and as that thought crossed my mind a pang of guilt punched me in the stomach. I felt sick and unworthy to be even talking to him.

"Depends," he said gruffly, but also in a friendly tone, "On what you're driving."

"A coffin," I answered abruptly.

An awkward silence filled the air and he stopped what he was doing. He looked at me momentarily and I thought he was just going to tell me to get the Hell out.

However, what happened next took me by surprise. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead with a rag from his pocket. Howling with laughter, he wiped the tears rolling down his eyes.

I nervously joined in the laughter.

"Very funny," he said, finally calming down as he placed his cap back on, "It's 29.99 for a day, and mileage is on you. I'll charge you only for the one day since you're such a funny gal."

I tipped him my imaginary hat and parked my car over in the overnight lot. He followed me over and directed me to the small office where he had me fill out some forms. I could see the dying glow of the sun bleed into the small window behind him, rendering the room an orange-red. After he made photocopies of my license and registration, he handed me the key and pointed to one of the smaller trucks just outside.

"That one," he said bluntly, "Have her back by tomorrow sun down."

Like a young teenage boy taking a girl to prom, I nodded quickly and quietly. The gravel made a crunching sound underneath my leather oxfords as I walked towards the white vehicle. The key felt stiff in the ignition as I turned it on. The truck gave a soft wheezing sound before it roared to life.

I turned on the radio and started off on my 5 hour drive towards Newport.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: Weekly update! This chapter isn't beta'd as well, just because bathduck is busy until the end of April. None the less, I hope you enjoy it!**

 **-Hae**

It was about 10 PM by the time I rolled into Newport. There was a motel, that I drove by, that caught my eye. It had bright red flickering lights and I pulled into the parking lot. I quickly texted Arizona that I had arrived and would be getting a motel. I stood in the cold and I stared at my phone patiently awaiting her reply. 5 minutes passed and I started to feel cold from the night's air seep into my bones so I walked into to the motel lobby to check myself in.

It was dingy in there. The air smelled stale and the carpet below my feet had a few stains that, if my imagination was what it used to be, could have probably been the remnants of a crime scene. Or an orgy with lots of fluids. Whichever. The young redheaded girl at reception was busy on her phone, she had not noticed me standing before her. I stood there for what felt like a century and finally the feeling of impatience sank in. I was tired and felt myself get frustrated at her. I extended my hand and tapped the bell in front of her.

 _Ding!_

She looked up quickly, her face looked apologetic. Noticing her young age and apologetic expression, my frustration dissipated and I shook my head as I took out my wallet. She quickly scrambled for the check in book and a form for me to fill out.

"Sorry," she said, "My babysitter was just asking if my kid could stay up late."

" _Her kid?_ " I thought to myself, " _How old is this girl?_ "

Being the nosy individual that I was, I tried to beat around the bush a bit for more information. I rested my hands on the pale wooden counter. I started to fill out the form asking me for my information. I pretended to mindlessly ask her things as I penned down my name and address.

"You look very young to be a mother," I asked, "How old are you?"

She looked up from the desk, her green eyes making direct eye contact with mine now. I saw her fists clench, and I opened my mouth to apologize for the intrusive question. She started to speak before I was able to do so.

"I'm 23, I look younger than I am," she said defensively, as though reciting something she had said a million times in the past.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," I interjected.

"It's okay. I broke up with my boyfriend 2 years ago, well my ex now. After he found out that I was staying with my gay best-friend, he thought I was cheating on him even though we had broken up. He attacked me outside a bar one night and raped me."

This story was a little more than what I had bargained for. I tensed up from the uneasiness that I was feeling. She turned away from me and grabbed a key off the wall. The key made contact with the wooden counter with a clang and she was red with anger or sadness.

"Room 15, it's outside this building on the right. Just follow the numbers on the door," she said curtly.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you," I said before she turned away again, reminding myself of what the reporter Meredith had said to me the night that had changed my life.

I walked outside to the cluster of rooms. With my duffle slung over one shoulder and my leather satchel slung over the other, I awkwardly shuffled down past the doors to the one with the lit up porch light. I put the key into the door and it opened up smoothly with a click. The room was dark and smelled of disinfectant. I flicked on the light and the dim incandescent glow filled the room. I kicked the door closed as I dropped my bags onto the chair near the bed. I was exhausted, so I laid down on the bed. I felt too lazy to shower and wash up for bed. I even considered just sleeping in my work clothes that night.

"Callie," I heard Arizona's voice called out.

I opened my eyes, but no one was there. I must have been dreaming. I sat up and looked around, everything was exactly where I had left things. Rolling over to my side, I missed Arizona's body against mine. Through the dirty window pane I noticed that there was a little girl staring into my room. She had curly blonde hair, and light blue eyes. She reminded me of child-version of Arizona. I clearly had my wife on my mind. The little girl had a familiar dress on, but I couldn't place my thumb on where I had seen it before. Maybe Cristina had a similar one.

The little girl had a hollow stare, she stared blankly right past me. I sat up into her field of vision, she turned to look at me. Her gaze sent shivers down my spine and it felt like a breath of cold air was on my neck. She pointed at me, then brought the same finger up to her lips.

"Shhh…" It almost sounded like a hiss, like gas leaking out of a pipe. The noise again sent a shiver down my spine and I felt compelled to chase after her.

I jumped up and ran outside to ask her what she had meant. The door nearly fell off its hinge as I roughly yanked at it to talk to her. She was gone without a trace and I stood there in the cold. My breath fogged up in the cold air as I panted from the adrenalin. My skin was covered with goosebumps and I felt too scared to be on my own right now. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket and dialed for Arizona.

 _Ring. Ring._

"Hello?" The voice on the other end sounded groggy.

"Babe!" I blurt out.

"What's wrong? Is something wrong? Are you okay?" Arizona answered, suddenly sounding more awake.

I shook my head as I talked even though I knew full well that she couldn't see me.

"I...No nothing's wrong, I just missed you…"

There was a pause.

"Oh honey, I'll be right here to see you ... _in Hell_."

I froze, her voice suddenly changed.

"What?"

"I said I'll see you tomorrow babe. Are you alright?" Her voice sounded concerned.

"Oh, I'm just tired. I'm a little nervous to go to sleep here without you though," I answered.

"Go out for a few drinks then babe, it'll be alright."

I paused and took in a deep breath. The image of the girl kept flashing in my mind and I felt like I had to get out of the area. I locked up the door behind me and headed for the motel lobby.

The girl was still at the front desk, she looked less than pleased to see me come back. She tried to avoid me by focusing on her nails. I came right up to the front desk in cold sweat and she noticed it.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

I nodded, but my expression must have betrayed me.

"Is there a bar nearby?"

She gestured out the lobby. Her skin seemed to glow in the fluorescent light in the room.

"There's a bar near here, but it's a gay bar. Just take a left when you exit and it's just down the road," she instructed as she eyed my wedding ring, "If you're just looking for a drink that shouldn't be a problem."

"The best kind of bar, thanks," I answered as I headed out the door.

It smelled sticky in the bar. It felt sweaty and there were bodies dancing on the dance floor. The strobe light was a dull magenta and cyan colour. The DJ had the smoke machine on near the stage and a Remix of the song Roses was playing. I pushed and shoved my way to the bar and sat down. The table felt sticky and I gestured for the bartender.

"What can I get you?" She said as she wiped a glass dry.

"Can I get a clean, dry martini," I said absentmindedly.

She looks at me, biting her lips as she says seductively, "Are you sure you don't want to make that wet and dirty instead?"

I flashed her my wedding ring and shook my head with an awkward smile.

She passed me the drink as she took the five-dollar bill out of my hand. I sipped it slowly, it was stronger than I had expected. Of course she made the drink dirty instead. I could taste the brine from the olive.

The bartender had her attention focused on another person at the bar by the time I looked back up from my drink. I had not noticed that someone had sat down beside me until she had order a drink. The bartender winked at her and handed her a whiskey sour. She must have been a regular because the bartender seemed to recognize her and did not hit on her.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," she said with a slight accent.

I turned my back to her and pretended not to hear her over the roar of music. I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, but I couldn't pretend not to feel that either.

"Oh sorry," I feigned innocence, "I couldn't hear you over the music."

She extended her hand to me and I shook it.

"Callie," I answered.

"What are you doing here?" Lucy asked as she sidled in closer.

I casually placed my hand on the table, making sure she saw my wedding ring. I saw her eyes flicker temporarily at it, then she looked at me, awaiting my response.

"I couldn't sleep," I took a sip of my martini as an excuse to stop speaking.

The blonde woman remained silent, her dark eyes wandered around the room as she waited for me to continue my story. She rested her hands on my thigh, but I quickly brushed it off with my own.

"I'm married," I blurted out the obvious to her, "I have two kids and a beautiful wife."

The younger woman suddenly looked less predatory as she heard that I had a wife. I guess there was something about a questioning wife that turned her on. The assumption of heteronormativity in our society bothered me so greatly. Everyone assumed you're straight until you tell them you're not. It was a constant 'coming out' story.

She brushed her hair back and chuckled. As she downed her drink and gestured for the bartender to pour her another, she continued talking.

"I have a girlfriend," she started, "Well, had. She's decided to transition so now I have a boyfriend. We got into a fight earlier today because her T, I mean his, was making him really sexually aggressive. He pinned me against the wall thinking that it was sexy when really I could have not been turned off more."

She rambled on and took another gulp of her drink. Lucy now pointed at me, her slender fingers perfectly manicured. I looked at her, mouth gaping because I wasn't quite sure how to answer what she had just unloaded on me. It seemed like everyone had a story today. I focused my attention on her outfit. She had on a cream-white see-through blouse on that had black lines intersecting at 90 degrees and a tight leather skirt with fishnet leggings. She had her legs crossed as she was speaking to me, her foot just bobbed accordingly.

"What's your story?" She finally prodded.

I snapped back into reality, and I was scrambling for my words.

"My mother just passed away."

Her face did a 360-turn and she was speechless. Her lips, coloured with an audacious red, opened and closed as she tried to find the right words to say to a person who was supposedly grieving.

"I'm sorry to hear that, were you two close?"

I shook my head, my hair sashaying as I tried hard to collect warm memories that I had shared with my mother. There were so few and so faint.

"I'm Calliope Torres. My mother killed my father in this town 20 years ago."

The woman's face went pale as though she saw a ghost.

"You're ... Calliope Torres? You were all over the news. Your house is still vacant up the road from here."

I gave a heavy sigh and downed my martini.

"I know," I answered with a heavy heart.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey guys! Hope you are well. So I wanted to take some time to establish Lucy and Callie's friendship as a bit awkward, but despite so, they are fond of each other in a platonic way. There isn't much of Arizona yet, at least not until Callie is back home in Seattle. Bathduck normally beta's my things, but as I've mentioned before she's a bit busy with school so I'm on my own.**

 **I hope you enjoy, and as always, it is a pleasure writing for you guys!**

 **Best,**

 **Hae**

Chapter 4

Morning was painful. I could hardly remember what happened last night. I remembered going to the bar, the bartender making a lewd pass at me, and this blonde, Lucy I think her name was, was talking to me. I remember warming up to her character and one drink led to another. Four drinks later and I could not remember the rest of that night. I was still in my work clothes from yesterday and I reeked of alcohol. My wallet and keys were still in my pocket. Nothing seemed to be missing. The only thing different about this room was that the early morning sun was now pouring in through the dirty window pane. A few moments later, I realized that the shower was running and I sat up abruptly.

Everywhere ached, it felt like I was Sisyphus last night and I rolled a boulder up a hill. I groaned at the dull pain and stared at the bathroom door. I reached over to the nightstand to grab a weapon, only to find that my best weapon of choice was a hardcover Bible in the drawer.

"Well I pray that Jesus will save me now…" I mumbled.

I was ready to throw it as the door opened and Lucy from last night walked out with her hair in a towel and a new outfit. I momentarily felt relief, then a wave of panic struck me. As though something bit me in the bed, I jumped ten feet into the air and landed on my feet. I kept my distance from her. " _Oh God_ ," I thought to myself, " _If I slept with her I think Arizona will killed me_."

As if reading my mind, she sat down on the bed and reassured me that we did not sleep together.

"We drank a lot, but we didn't sleep together. I mean we did, but nothing sexual happened."

I must have looked confused because she tried to explain herself further.

"I told you I was kind of afraid of my...hm… partner. And you were even funnier, you said you were afraid of some little girl near your motel room. So, I stayed over."

"But nothing happened," I said.

"Nothing happened," Lucy reiterated.

"Oh thank God," I answered with a sigh of relief.

The blonde remained on the bed drying her hair. I could see her black silk bra outlining her cleavage as she lifted her arms to dry her hair. She cocked her head to the side and looked at me. The sun lit her face up, almost in a silent beauty kind of way. I reached for my phone and checked it. It was 9 AM and I had one missed call from Arizona. As I played the voicemail out loud, I felt the familiar poke of the cheque that remained in my pocket.

"Hey honey," the recording started, "I know you're a bit stressed about today, but don't worry! I am bringing the kids to school right now, and then I'm going to go buy some groceries to make your favourite dish. My father said he'd be okay watching them for the night so we'll get the night all to ourself. Let's say candlelight dinner plus some rough…"

I quickly muted the rest of the recording and blushed as Lucy started howling with laughter. I looked at her and she tossed the onto the chair nearby. I had brought the phone up to my ear to finish the recording. I avoided eye contact with Lucy, to relieve some of my awkwardness.

"...sex that you've been asking me to try...With the kids out of the house we can be as loud as we want. Anyway! Bye, I love you."

My face was still burning from embarrassment. Lucy was too busy on her phone to notice. Moments later she tossed me a clean towel and scrunched her nose.

"You smell," she said as she pinched her nose.

I lifted my arms and sniffed around. A sour odour filled my nostrils and I hurriedly made my way to the shower. I glanced down at my watch and realized that I had less than an hour to get ready to pick up my mother. Or rather, her corpse.

The hot shower woke me up instantly. The steam filled the room and I felt the water droplets embrace me. I didn't notice, but I guess I must have started to hum while I was in there because by the end of the shower I found myself singing a tune. A tune that my mother used to sing to me.I dried myself off and pulled on a maroon sweater and some beige khakis. I heard the same _hiss_ from last night and I looked around the tiny bathroom, trying to figure out where it was coming from. I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Instead I noticed tiny details of the bathroom. The off-teal colour of the room and the tiles cracked and stained gave it a very abandoned tone. " _No one is coming back for you_ ," the room seemed to chant.

I expected Lucy to be gone by the time I was back in the room, but she was still on her phone, on the bed. Her legs were crossed like the bar last night, her shoe hanging off her foot and her foot bobbed with the same unknown rhythm. She looked at me and tossed her phone onto the bed. Her arms crossed in front of her as I dried my hair.

"You're still here," I said curtly as I pulled my oxfords back onto my feet.

She smiled as she combed her hand through her wavy blond hair. Lucy smacked her crimson red lips together.

"I'm going with you," she answered.

I looked at her confusedly. "Go with me where?"

The blonde got up and picked up her phone. She then grabbed her bag and made her way to the door. It took me a moment to realize that she was prepared to not go home last night.

"You said you were going to the penitentiary to pick up your mother's body…"

The door opened and let in the sun's rays. The fresh air filled the room and Lucy extended her arm to me to guide me outside. I grabbed my bags,walked right past her and headed towards my car. Uninvited, she entered the passenger's side. I shook my head showing her my disapproval. On the inside however, I had secretly wanted her to come by. This younger woman had secretly grown on me. She reminded me of a foster sister I once had.

My ignition turned over and we started our silent drive towards the prison. The silence was not uncomfortable though. It was a peaceful silence as the trees whizzed by. The scenery was beautiful and calming. Lucy reached over and turned on the radio. For some unknown reason within me, I swatted her hand away. She went back to playing with her phone and instantly I felt bad. I turned the radio on for her and she looked at me and smiled.

"You're just a big softy on the inside aren't you," she said as she reached over to poke my stomach playfully.

I swatted her hand away again, swerving slightly.

"You must be great in bed, why else would your wife stay with you considering your crass," Lucy said, partly joking, but with a serious undertone.

"We do fine," I answered monotonously, hardly registering her jab at me. I was too focused on the road ahead and the upcoming event.

"What's her name?" Lucy said as she flipped through some photos in my glove compartment.

I looked over and saw the photo she was looking at. It was a photo we took at the beach, Cristina was holding the camera for the first time. The frame was slightly crooked, but it was a pretty good shot. Arizona had her arms wrapped around me and the sun was setting behind us. She kissed me on the cheek and I had a huge smile on my face. I could hardly remember the time when it felt as carefree as then. I missed them so much and it had only been one day.

"Her name's Arizona Robbins."

The drive felt like it ended just as it had gotten started. Before us, the stark grey building loomed over the fenced parking lot. Sweat started to form on my palms and I gripped the steering wheel tightly, as though that would stop this moment and hold it still. The guard at the entrance of the parking lot looked at me and I flashed a piece of ID to him. He casually looked at it to match my face with the photo. He ducked a bit to peer into the truck, further examining us.

"Can you just pop open the back for me Ma'am," he said as he stepped out from the booth.

He had short brown hair, neatly trimmed, exposing his ears. His emerald green eyes contrasted the sombre greenish-grey uniform he had on. He had his shirt tucked into his pants and the belt held what seemed to be a can of mace, a batton, a radio-walkie, a set of handcuffs, and a taser. I inspected his badge carefully, noting his name.

"Of course, uhm, Chum," I agreed.

" _What an unfortunate last name,_ " I thought to myself. I squeezed Lucy's thigh tightly, like a mother squeezing their child's hand to stop them from laughing at someone falling. I turned and glared at her, instantaneously stopping her snickering. I walked around the truck and opened up the gated cargo bay. The truck wasn't too big, but if I had wanted to, I could probably smuggle 5 people in there comfortably, let alone contrabands. The cargo bay was empty save a dried leaf in a corner. He nodded and closed it up for me. His uniform seemed a bit small for his muscles as he reached up to pull the gate down. I nodded gratefully, I would not have been able to reach that without making a fool of myself. He then patted the truck and opened up the gate for us to pass. Anticipating that I would have to eventually move my mother's coffin onto the truck, I parked near the back, somewhere inconspicuous,

The penitentiary was composed of many small grey building linked together by small passages. All enclosed by the fence that we had breached. The woman, in the same uniform as Chum, behind the glass looked bored with her job and her life. She was filling out a crossword slowly, tapping the pen as she went through the clues.

Mumbling under her breathe, she said silently, "Six letter word for the 'The island of blank, inspired a poet'... hm, it starts with L..."

I peered into the glass and gestured for her attention. She blatantly ignored me and I turned to look at Lucy. After a few more minutes, my patience wore thin and I see Lucy back on her phone again, entertaining herself. Patience has not been my virtue as of late and I was aware of that.

The woman mumbled the same thing again. I impatiently tapped the glass and the woman glared up at me past her reading glasses.

"Lesbos," I said through the speech hole.

"S'cuse me? What did you just call me?" She questioned in a sassy tone.

I pointed at her crossword, my finger tapping the glass once more.

"The island of Lesbos," I repeated, "The five letter word."

Looking angry, the woman set down her glasses and scrunched up her crossword and tossed it over her shoulder into the wastebasket bin. It seemed a little dramatic and uncalled for, but whatever floated her boat.

"Thanks genius," she answered apathetically, "What's your business here?"

I quickly apologized, something that I seemed to be doing a lot of lately. I was getting awfully good at it. I wasn't sure if that was even a good thing.

"I'm Calliope Torres, I'm here to see the Warden? I got a letter saying that my mother passed away. I'm here to speak to him."

"Alright, who's that?" She said, maintaining the sassiness as she gestured to Lucy. Lucy looked up and walked over to her.

She smiled and answered in her accent, "I'm her wife, Arizona Robbins."

Lucy winked at me and I was caught off guard. Slightly annoyed by the impersonation, I shook my head.

"Is something the matter?" The woman asked.

Lucy wrapped her arm around me.

"Nothing's wrong," she answered, "She just gets embarrassed when I tell people that we're married."

"ID ma'am?" The woman asked as she tapped the little dip under the glass barrier between us and her. I dug through my wallet and passed mine over. My driver's license made a little swish sound as it went under.

Lucy pretended to rummage through her purse looking for her ID. Feigning exasperation, she looked at both me and the woman. She pressed one hand against her forehead and said, "I'm such a ditz, I must have left my ID back home."

The guard shook her head.

"I can't let you in without an ID, only relatives to the deceased can enter."

This woman probably didn't even know my mother's name. That thought, along with Lucy's charade, was starting to anger me. I kept this to myself though, trying to play along with Lucy's games.

"But I'm her wife, I'm here to support her," Lucy protested, clinging to my arm.

I felt the cheque poke at me once more as she did so. I had to cash it in before I had second thoughts. Arizona needed this to make ends meet at home. Cristina needed this for space camp. I needed this for my mother's funeral. It seemed in a way Alex was the only innocent person in this matter. If only he would stop outgrowing his clothes too.

"You can't prove that you're her wife though. I see Ms Arizona Robbins listed as the wife of the deceased's emergency contact, but you don't have your ID on you."

"I can kiss her!"

I looked at her disgustedly, this charade has gone too far. I slammed my hand against the metal counter. Lucy has won this time. I had to step in to stop the madness.

"Ma'am if you would just listen. What my wife suggested is absolutely ludicrous, but you have to see where we're coming from. I mean, if that's what it will take for you to believe us then by all means yeah sure I'll kiss this _hag._ But you wouldn't make two straight people kiss each other in front of you to prove that they are married right? That is a blatant human rights violation and so is this," I rolled my eyes at Lucy as I emphasized the word 'hag', "Please forgive me for being crass, but we drove all the way down from Seattle this morning, leaving our two young children with her father, and I'm just here to speak to the Warden about picking up my dead mother. It's been a long morning."

My rant left the woman speechless. With her mouth hanging open, she handed over two visitor's passes and buzzed us into the Warden's walked through the opened gates and down a lit grey corridor. Lucy's heel made a clacking noise behind me as I sped ahead to the Warden's office.

"There was no need for you to call me a hag," Lucy said with a pout.

"There was no need for you to impersonate my wife!" I scowled at her under my breath.

"How else would I have gotten in here?" Lucy protested quietly.

"You didn't have to come in here, this isn't your business. You made it your business when it was only mine and mine alone," I snapped at her.

She was silent. I realized I may have pushed her a bit too hard. In her own bizarre way, the young woman only meant well. I was just too stressed out from everything to see that.

The Warden had his door opened and I knocked before entering. The older man looked up from his desk. He had a genial smile, but his face looked worn out from years of work. He got up from his desk and extended his hand to me. He took my hand firmly and shook it. Lucy extended her hand afterwards and received the same treatment.

"Nice to see you again Calliope, it's been too long," he started, "Please have a seat."

I sat down and Lucy sat down beside me. He turned to pull a thick case file from the wall. The Warden opened up the file on the desk and a mug shot of my mother slipped out. I gingerly picked up the photo, running my fingers along the edges of my mother's face. I tried to remember the way her skin felt against mine the very last time she tucked me in at night. She looked frightened. She must have felt so alone and scared. I should have stayed with her. I should have continued writing to her. I should have tried to get her out of here. The things that I should have done, but alas time cannot be rewound. I'm no longer the little girl who cried for her mommy at night in the foster homes. I grew up and now my mother is dead. Time is as time does. Nothing can change.

"Calliope," the Warden said, trying to get my attention once more.

He took the photo out of my hands.

"This isn't a photo you would want to keep," he continued.

I nodded in agreement. Lucy stayed silent as she tried to be supportive. She wasn't even playing with her phone, she was intently looking at me. She placed her hand over my knee and squeezed. It was a much different squeeze than the one from last night. This one felt more comforting than seductive. I relished in the comfort provided by this newfound friend.

"Your mother, she was very meek and quiet. Really, she mostly kept to herself. She was a model prisoner. We didn't have much trouble with her," he said as he skimmed the dossier.

I nodded once more. My mother was always very shy. She never caused trouble and always taught me to do the same. I remembered once when I was in Kindergarten and a girl broke my toy, my instinct was to break her toys, but my mother sat me down and said that we sometimes have to give away things we like to those who may be less fortunate. I was glad I did so, because eventually I became one of those less fortunate and karma treated me well.

The Warden scratched his short, white beard. It made a scritchy sound as his nails stroked his face.

"She was actually eligible for parole due to good behaviour, but she never followed through with that."

"I was unaware of that," I answered, both surprised and saddened by the news. I wondered why she didn't try for parole to see me. If she made parole earlier I wouldn't have had to bounce from foster home to foster home for so long. I wouldn't have had to be on my own for so long.

"There were a few incidents though, it started with the hallucinations. She kept saying she saw blue eyes. Blue eyes peering at her in the dark. She said she saw a pale little girl was in her room. Here are some drawings."

He passed over a few sketches in charcoal. I instantly recognized the drawing style. My mother used to teach art, but these drawings were very sombre. The way my mother drew this girl made her seem almost possessed. I recognized the girl in the drawings as well. It was the doll my mother had given to me the night she lost it and killed my father.

"This..is the doll we used to have," I stammered.

The man quickly nodded as he retrieved the pages from my hand and returned them to the file.

"She attacked a guard and we had to sedate her. We then sent her for a psychiatric evaluation. The psychiatrist there said she may have been experiencing PTSD from the night of the incident. The doll must have been the last thing she saw before her psychosis. The doctor diagnosed her with paranoid schizophrenia with violent outbreaks. She was medicated with some antipsychotics. Here, why don't we take a walk over to where your mother was staying."

He got up and gestured for us to follow him out of the room. We went down 12 hallways before reaching the room where my mother was held prior to her death. There were exactly 8 right turns and 3 left turns. I remembered this pathway well. Up until I stopped visiting, my social worker took me down this path many times in my youth.

I peered into the cell that housed my mother for 20 years. It was small, barely fitting a bed and a sink. I imagined her in there rocking herself on the soiled mattress. It seemed so vivid, my imagination took a life of its own. As the Warden spoke, the image of my mother rose from the bed and shambled towards the door. Her face was almost unrecognizable from the years.

"The eyes! The blue eyes!"  
I stumbled back, surprising not only myself, but also Lucy and the Warden. He snapped the file shut as he caught me before I fell. I looked up again, but this time the room was empty. I felt Lucy's eyes burn into me as I frantically tried to regain my composure.

"As I just said, those were apparently your mother's last words," he said as he brought his free hand to scratch his chin once more.

I stared at him blankly, I must have mistook his voice for my deceased mother's. It must have been the stress. In addition to not sleeping well, the moral conflict for the cheque feels like it had knotted up my insides. The fear of getting caught was starting to wear down on me. Not only that, but likely the drinking from last night did not help.

"Are you alright?" Lucy finally managed.

"Yeah...Where's my mother?" I said to the Warden.

He brought us to the morgue. There, he showed me my mother. Her skin was pale, almost frostbitten looking from the freezer. Her face looked peaceful, framed by her long wavy dark hair. He zipped her back up in the body bag.

"So we'll have someone place her into one of the coffins here and bring her out to your vehicle."

"I rented a UHaul, I hope that's okay."

"It's really up to you, I hope you can get your deposit back though," he quietly and uncomfortably joked, "There's also a small box with some of her belongings, if you want them."

I nodded. Maybe I could piece together the fragments of my mother's fragile mind through her things. Maybe then it would be easier to lay her to rest and move on with my life.


End file.
